


More Than Just Luck

by doctorxdonna (badxwolfxrising)



Series: 50 Prompt Challenge [5]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 50 prompt challenge, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Weddings, Whiskey - Freeform, butt dial AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 15:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5381036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badxwolfxrising/pseuds/doctorxdonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a tumblr prompt, "You butt-dialed me and I overheard the drunken conversation you had with your friend about your massive crush on me and now I don’t know how to act around you AU".</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Just Luck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [develish1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/develish1/gifts).



> Part of my 50 Prompt Challenge, prompts: whiskey, weddings, and of course the butt dial AU. Written as a stand alone piece unrelated to my other Ten x Donna stuff.

“Are you sure you want to go?” he asked, trying not to pout.

“She’s my cousin and I’m a bridesmaid, I kind of have to,” Donna replied, hitching her bag up over her shoulders.

“I thought you didn’t even like her?” the Doctor insisted.

“I don’t, but family is family. I have to go. I’ll only be gone three days for the wedding. Think you can try to not get arrested, kidnapped, or killed in between now and then?” she asked.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” the Doctor retorted. “I’m not a child. I did survive the universe for nine hundred plus years before I met you. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

Donna raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she replied a little too quickly.

“No really, what? What is it?” he pressed.

“Nothing, Doctor, really. It’s fine,” she said dismissively.

“You’ve got an awful poker face, you know.”

“Well shit, there goes my dream of being a professional poker player. What am I supposed to do now?”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“You want to know? Fine. It’s just that you are like the universe’s biggest toddler. I cook for you, I do your laundry, I remind you to eat and bathe and sleep, I take care of you when you’re sick. It’s impossible to get you to go to bed even when you’re exhausted, and you can’t leave me alone to do anything for more than five minutes before you bother me to complain that you’re bored. You’re exactly like a little kid.”

The Doctor’s mouth opened and shut several times. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

“You know you don’t have to do those things if you don’t want to,” he said, scuffing his plimsolls against the pavement. “I _can_ do them myself, it’s just that you’re better at domestics than I am.”

“Yeah, but if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t still be doing it. I don’t mind doing those things for you because you’re my best friend and I love you, even if you are an overgrown space manchild with a time machine,” she said, leaning up to peck him on the cheek. “I’ll see you in three days. Stay out of trouble.”

Flustered and speechless, the Doctor stared after her, his palm pressed to the side of his face. “Love?” he finally squeaked after she was already out of earshot.

* * * * *

When the Doctor strolled out of the TARDIS, Jack was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

“Doctor. Long time, no see. To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked with just a hint of sarcasm.

“Can’t I just drop in to say hello to an old friend?” the Doctor replied, hands jammed in the pockets of his coat.

“It’s been over fifty years.”

“Has it? I got caught up.”

“Of course you did. So where is she?” Jack asked.

“Where’s who?” the Doctor replied, deliberately feigning ignorance.

“Your companion. I assume you’ve got one?”

“She’s at a wedding for the next three days.”

“Ah,” Jack said, a knowing look on his face. “So that’s why you’re here. You’re bored. Or lonely.”

“Actually,” the Doctor said, closing the distance between them. “I came to ask your advice. Bit of woman trouble. Wanted to get your opinion, man to man. You’re better with that stuff than I ever will be.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, although I’m already starting to regret that decision.”

“Oh, don’t be so salty. Take off your coat and sit down awhile, I’ll open a bottle of hypervodka,” Jack offered.  
The Doctor frowned. “Nothing good ever happens when hypervodka’s involved.”

“Whiskey?”

“Yeah, that’ll do.”

* * * * *  
In the darkness, the chorus to Elton John’s “Rocket Man” began to play in a loop. Donna grumbled, sighed, and flipped over in her bed. The digital clock read 2:13 AM. Her hand crawled across the nightstand until she reached the buzzing mobile and flipped it open.

“This better be important, Spaceman,” she snapped irritably into the phone. All she got in response was the sound of shuffling and muffled voices. “Doctor?”

“ _...and I just completely froze when she said it, it caught me so off guard. I should’ve said it back, y’know?_ ”

The Doctor, sounding melancholy.

“So why didn’t you?”

A second man, his voice unfamiliar.

“ _Because every time I admit that I care for something, I tend to lose it shortly thereafter._ ”

The Doctor again, his speech slightly slurred.

Donna froze, the phone still clasped in her hand and pressed against her ear, as realization dawned on her. She’d been pocket dialed. Whoever the Doctor was talking about, it likely wasn’t a conversation she was meant to overhear.

She kept listening, of course.

“You’re so cynical.”

“ _Well, when you’ve lived as long as I have-_ ”

“I _have_ lived as long as you have. I still believe in love. It gives life purpose, even if it is fleeting.”

“ _They’re like mayflies, Jack. And I can’t, I don’t...I don’t even want to think about what happens when her time runs out_.”

“So tell her you love her. She told you she loved you, tell her you feel the same.”

“ _It’s not like that, though. I mean I told her I just wanted a mate. She loves me like a friend and nothing more, I’m pretty sure. And I don’t want to risk scaring her off by telling her how I actually feel_.”

Her stomach flip flopped as she realized exactly who the Doctor was talking about.

“Yeah but Doc, for all you know she does feel the same, but she’s afraid to scare you off, too. I mean...you do have a bit of a track record. I wouldn’t blame her for being gun shy about admitting her feelings. Someone has to make the first move, it might as well be you.”

“ _What would I even say?_ ”

“Well, you could always try kissing her. Actions speak louder than words.”

Donna panicked and flipped the phone shut before she could hear the Doctor’s response. Heart pounding, she stared at the ceiling, attempting to digest what she’d just heard and trying to reconcile feelings she’d been afraid to acknowledge for more time than she was willing to admit even to herself.

* * * * *  
**1 New Message From: Spaceman**

_How’s the wedding?_

Donna held her mobile down in her lap and surreptitiously texted him back as though she hadn’t overheard him declaring his love for her the night previous.

_Boring. 2 many speeches. Yawn!!!_

A moment later her phone vibrated against her leg.

_Told you so. :-P_

Her fingers flew furiously over the keys, and she punched send a little harder than necessary.

_Shut it, spaceman._

He didn’t respond right away. She took a sip of her wine, and pretended to look interested in what was turning out to be a rather long winded best man speech. She was practically ready to pull her hair out in boredom when she finally felt the telltale buzz in her lap.

_If I were there you wouldn’t be bored._

She choked on her wine, prompting concerned looks from the people seated immediately in her vicinity. Exaggerating her sudden coughing fit, she excused herself to the loo. She waited until she had closed herself inside one of the stalls to answer him back.

_Yeah, well, you’re not here._

Her phone buzzing sounded obscenely loud echoing off the tiled wall.

_Wanna bet?_

She was still pondering that last text when she bumped into him out in the hall.

“Well fancy meeting you here,” he said with a grin, glasses askew on his face.

“Doctor, what the hell are you-hold on, are you drunk right now?” she asked incredulously, taking in his rumpled suit and general unkempt appearance. Had he been at it since he’d pocket dialed her the night before?

“What? Of course not!” he belched. “Well okay, maybe just a little bit. A smidgen. Just a tad.”

“Keep your voice down!” she hissed, yanking him by the arm into the coat check, which was thankfully unattended due to the unseasonably warm weather. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I had to come talk to you, before my courage ran out,” he mumbled.

“It couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?” she whispered back

“It’s waited long enough. Donna, I love you.”

Knowing the admission was coming didn’t make it any less shocking to hear out loud. She struggled to find her voice to answer him. “I know.”

“No,” he said, clutching her arm desperately. “I _love_ you.”

“Oh,” she replied lamely.

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t seem surprised to hear that.”

She bit her lip, and evaded his direct gaze. “I’m not. I overheard you...last night.”

“You overheard me?” he parroted, still looking lost.

“You pocket dialed me,” she explained. “I overheard you and your friend talking. About me.”

“Well, bollocks,” he said, sliding down against the wall to sit on the floor, legs splayed out in front of him.

She eyed the carpet doubtfully before she settled down next to him. “If I have to get this dry cleaned, you’re paying for it.”

“I wouldn’t bother,” he said, eying her up. “It’s kind of hideous.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“ _You_ look lovely. It’s the dress that’s ugly. A peach taffeta nightmare.”

“Yeah….it is sort of awful,” she admitted. “Kind of like this wedding. Only a sadist would make someone wear this shapeless sack. You really think I look lovely?”

“You could be wearing a bin bag, I’d still think you were beautiful,” he answered.

She grabbed him by the lapels, pulled him towards her, and kissed him firm and square on the mouth. Surprised and caught off guard, he tipped to the side, pulling her with him to the floor. They landed in an inelegant pile, legs tangled together, her resting on top of him.

“That’s not your sonic screwdriver poking me in the stomach, is it?”

“That depends. How hard will you slap me if I say no?”

“You are such a bloke,” she said, rolling off of him.

“Yes, I am a bloke. Not a eunuch. And you’re a woman.”

“I know that.”

“Sometimes I think you forget.”

“Come on,” she said, finally getting to her feet. She offered him a hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Where are we going?” he asked, letting her pull him to his feet.

“I thought we’d start with second base and take it from there,” she said coyly.

“I thought you hated sports, what do you want to go to ball game for?” he questioned, perplexed.

She just stared at him long and hard until the realization dawned and he tugged her eagerly down the hall and outside to where the TARDIS was waiting.

* * * * *  
As it was, they ended up getting quite a bit further than second base.

Afterwards, when they were lying in his bed together, she nuzzled against the side of his neck and whispered in his ear, “I love you, too, you know. _Love_ love you, In case you were wondering.”

He chuckled, and kissed the top of her head. “Making me work for it, eh?”

“I was mustering up my own courage. The last time I told a man I loved him, he tried to feed me to a giant spider,” she pointed out.

“He wasn’t a man. A fool, yes, but not a man. Real men don’t do the things he did to you,” the Doctor said, drawing his arms around her protectively.

“Guess it’s lucky you were there to save me,” she said, tracing circles on his bare chest with her finger. “My knight in pinstripes. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I feel like I’m the lucky one. You found me once, and then you found me again, and you have saved me in more ways than you will ever know,” he said, cupping her cheek. “It was more than just luck, it was bashert.”

“Bashert?”

“It’s Yiddish. There’s not really a comparable term in English, but it basically translates to “meant  
to be.”

“Like fate?”

“Sort of, yeah, but it’s more than just that. It’s two people who were always going to end up with each other, two halves that make a whole. Soul mates, brought together by god or the universe, a fixed point in time. A dozen different paths, all leading to that same person. You.”

“I think that’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she said, picking her head up off his chest to look at him.

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Stick around, I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

“Oh yeah? I’m gonna hold you to that,” she said, smiling.


End file.
